


The compass points to home

by quenchiest_cactus



Series: We just wrote songs and got tattoos [2]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: ...yes i know i wrote it but still..., Bad Decisions, Breaking Up & Making Up, Canon Compliant, Character Death, I Made Myself Cry, Light Angst, M/M, Song: Always You (Louis Tomlinson), Songwriter Louis Tomlinson, fuck if they would just TALK to eachother
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-25
Updated: 2020-05-25
Packaged: 2021-03-03 05:21:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,191
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24369514
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quenchiest_cactus/pseuds/quenchiest_cactus
Summary: Louis is going through hell and barely keeping it together. The one person who could pull him out of it is Harry but Louis just too stubborn to let him near enough.Or the one where Louis knows best but everyone else knows better.
Relationships: Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson
Series: We just wrote songs and got tattoos [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1709623
Kudos: 55





	The compass points to home

**Author's Note:**

> Always You is one of my favourite songs on the album because it's got such a happy vibe but it's also such a heartbreaking story. Anyway, I made myself and [xxbluefeatherxx](https://archiveofourown.org/users/xxbluefeatherxx/pseuds/xxbluefeatherxx)  
> sad at midnight thinking about how the song came about and so I decided to write it to maybe make you sad too.  
> I also made myself laugh hysterically when I tried to write the ending in the wee hours of the morning. So if you feel like laughing read the outline after the story.  
> <3
> 
> I don't own anything, obviously

Louis rolled over and faced the handsome man sleeping next to him. His dark brown hair, his high cheekbones, the light dusting of stubble over his chin. He really was gorgeous, and Louis felt lucky to be lying next him with their bare legs entangled. Louis felt lucky for exactly two minutes before the guilt he had become far too accustomed to, washed over him. He became hyper aware of the other man’s milky skin that was unmarked by ink and his ringless fingers and clean nails. His eyelashes fluttered open and _ah, there it is._

Green eyes. That’s why Louis had brought him back to his hotel room. After the many shots he had drunk, everything had sort of blurred except for green eyes and that had been enough for him last night. In the morning, though, he saw that they were the wrong shade of green and they were set in the wrong face and Louis didn’t even bother with trying to form an excuse. He just walked into the shower and hoped that the man would take the hint and show himself out.

Under the warm spray, Louis continued his ‘morning-after’ ritual, which among other things, involved him hating himself and trying to wash it away. He felt sore and guilty and mostly, he felt angry for choosing that random man out of a sea of people just because he had green eyes.

God, Louis was trying to forget green eyes. 

***

**_2015_ **

_“I don’t know why you think you’re the only one who gets to call a time out on us.”_

_“You’re not calling a time out, Louis. You’re running away.”_

_“There’s nothing keeping me here.”_

_“What? What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”_

_“It means, Harry, that we’ve reached the end. Now that the band is splitting, or going on hiatus, or whatever, you and I aren’t going to have to be around each other as much so we can just stop pretending that there’s anything left for us. This thing we have, it’s barely a relationship anymore. It’s two children clinging to each other because it’s safe and easy and familiar.”_

_“Easy? No part of this is easy and it never has been. But we stuck it out because we agreed it was worth it.”_

_“You didn’t stick it out. You left me.”_

_“And this is revenge? I was a_ kid _. I was scared and confused and hurt and I made a mistake. A mistake, Lou. Breaking up was a_ mistake. _”_

_“It was a mistake back when we still cared for each other.”_

_“And you don’t care for me now? Is that what you expect me to believe.” Tears were starting to pool in Harry’s eyes. Green eyes._

_“You can believe what you want. Doesn’t change the fact that this is over.”_

_Harry sighed and put his large hand against Louis’ cheek, his eyes and voice softening. “Louis, please. I know you’ve been pulling away. Even when there’s no one around you won’t look me in the eyes, you won’t hold me when we sleep. But I didn’t say anything because with the band splitting- It’s just a weird time for all of us. Plus, we have to deal with the whole fake baby thing.”_

_"First of all, It's a surrogacy, H. The baby's not fake."_

_"God I know that. But you were just supposed to be be a sperm donor to a friend. Not a father to a child. It's too much. It's too far. And it's not fair to the kid either. Do you have any idea the backlash we'll get for this?"_

_“Actually,_ you _have nothing to do with it.”_

_“Lou, come on. We knew that the baby rumour was going to put a strain on us, but we promised we’d get through it.” Harry paused, and considered his next words. “Is this about Jay?”_

_“Don’t talk about her.”_

_“Lou, she’s my family too.”_

_“She’s_ my _family, Harry. And she’s dying. And there’s nothing I can do about it. There’s no treatment that I can’t afford, no hospital in the world I can’t fly her to, but she’s still going to die.”_

_Harry teared up again and pulled Louis into a hug and for a moment, Louis seemed to relax in his arms. But then, Harry pressed a kiss to the top of his forehead and Louis jerked away._

_“NO. This is exactly why we can’t be together.”_

_“Because I comfort you?”_

_“My mum is_ dying _, Harry. I’m going to lose her and then have to take care of the six little siblings who are going to lose her too. And while I’m going through the worst time of my life, I’m going to have to parade around with a_ baby _at any given moment.”_

_“You’re not making sense, Lou. You’re just giving me reasons why I should stay. You need someone in your corner.”_

_“I probably do, but it’s not going to be you. Because you just make everything harder. I can’t deal with everything else in my life and still have to always worry about not standing too close to you. It’s too much.”_

_“But that’s only in public, Lou. We can still-”_

_“No._ Listen to me. _It’s too much for me. I’m only 23 and my mum is dying. I’m pretending to have a fucking baby to cover up something I shouldn’t have to hide, and I have to start a brand new career when no one thinks I can do it and will endlessly compare me to the rest of the band. I can’t deal with all of that and a relationship with you as well.”_

_“You’re talking like loving me is a huge burden.”_

_“Right now, it is.”_

_Harry took a horrified step away from is boyfriend just as Louis took a step towards him._

_“Look, Hazza. You’re fantastic. You’re handsome and talented and outrageously charming. You’ll find someone.”_

_“I’m not just hunting for people so that I’m not lonely, you know. You weren’t just the first person who was willing to keep me company. And you implying that completely cheapens that fact I_ chose _to spend my life with you.”_

_“You deserve someone who can give you everything you want. Someone who can spend time with you, someone you can go around with in public. Maybe a girl. You haven’t been with a girl in a long time. Just find someone who’ll love you.”_

_“I found that person 5 years ago.”_

_“Time to find another”_

_Harry gasped for air and tears streamed down his face and Louis couldn’t look him in the eyes anymore._

***

When Louis first left Harry, he didn’t question his decision for a single moment, even though everyone around him had told him he was being an absolute tosser. It was definitely a bit of an adjustment, not having Harry at his side. His house seemed emptier and his bed was colder, and he had gone back to his old habit of drinking tea before bed to warm himself since Harry’s arms weren’t there to do it for him. And every so often, he would hear a terrible joke and automatically turn to see Harry laugh. But Louis was still sure he had made the right decision.

He was sure for exactly four months before everything began to spiral. Louis had started writing again but hated everything he was producing because it just sounded sad and empty. Murmurs were spreading through his team that he needed a PR girlfriend again even though it hadn’t even been a half a year since Freddie had been born. And then, Harry had come to Doncaster to visit Jay.

Of course, she had been thrilled to see Harry and had immediately engaged him in an enthusiastic conversation which was quickly joined by all the younger Tomlinsons. The sight of Harry interacting with his family was so painfully familiar that Louis had wanted Harry to disappear, but he also couldn’t take his eyes off him which explained all the knowing and hopeful looks he was getting from his mother.

It also explained why Jay had told them to drive back to London together.

It _didn’t_ explain why either of them had agreed. And it definitely didn’t explain why, against his better judgement, Louis had invited his ex-boyfriend for a cup of tea after the awkward 3-hour journey.

Harry was silent as he followed Louis through the doorway, taking in the house that he had once practically lived in and Louis desperately pushed aside the feeling of completion at having him back there, as though Harry was a fixture without which his home seemed ever so slightly off kilter.

Instead, he busied himself with making tea.

As he brought the two cups to the kitchen island, he noticed that Harry had retrieved the milk and had automatically begun pouring out the exact amount. The gesture was so domestic and familiar, it made Louis’ chest ache and Harry must have realised it because he immediately began to apologise.

“I’m so sorry, Lou. I shouldn’t have just presumed. I don’t live here anymore and – well, it’s not really my place, I just –”

And Louis couldn’t hear it anymore. He couldn’t listen to _Harry_ of all people apologise for being comfortable around him. He couldn’t bear the idea of Harry being a stranger to him. He couldn’t stand those beautiful green eyes looking at him with trepidation.

So instead of listening to Harry ramble, he did something that he would come to regret too quickly.

He kissed him.

And there was no hesitation in Harry anymore, as though he had been waiting for it. Louis revelled in the desperation with which they attacked each other and the familiar taste of the gum that Harry was always chewing, and he knew that a kiss was not going to be enough for either of them.

* * *

Louis regretted it almost immediately. But that didn’t stop him from thinking about it almost every moment that he had to spare.

He smiled at the memory that some things had been exactly the same. Harry had still been able to walk backwards through the house, eyes closed, lips attached to Louis’ just from muscle memory. He had wrapped his legs around Louis’ waist and allowed himself to be carried to bedroom with the assurance of someone who had done it a hundred times before. He had still paused in awe when Louis had removed his clothes as though he was seeing him for the first time and shuddered when Louis traced his tongue over the butterfly on his stomach. Louis had taken him apart with hands that knew their way over his body and Harry had remembered every sensitive spot that the other boy had as though the knowledge was burned into his brain.

But some things had been different too. There had been no fond teasing, no laughter, no playfulness. There had been no love bites because they didn’t belong only to each other anymore. Which is also why, for the first time in years, they had used a condom. When Louis had eased himself into Harry, there had been no mumbled confessions of love amongst the moans. And when they were done, there were no cuddles. Instead, Harry had grabbed all his clothes and mumbled an apology that Louis had returned before they went their separate ways.

* * *

It had been easy to ignore before, but now the feeling of Harry was so much more recent and everything was a reminder of him. The strumming of a guitar, the smell of fresh bread, perfectly mixed tea, the tattoos that covered his own body and of course, his own mother constantly telling him to get his head out of his arse and ‘just call the boy’.

Louis needed a _break._

He needed to get out of his own head and relax and maybe write some music and he couldn’t do that in London where everything was _harryharryharry._

So, instead he went to Jamaica which in hindsight, Louis realised, wasn’t any better. He had wanted to go somewhere that had always made him feel light and warm but forgotten that the warm light feeling had come primarily from being there with Harry who had been his most frequent companion on the island.

But he was reminded soon enough when he was actually confronted with the sight of the boy. The same tall, lean body covered in tattoos, the same ridiculously short swim trunks, and the same curly brown hair, although it was shorter than it had been in years. For a moment, Louis thought that he was just caught up in the nostalgia and was imagining him. But those eyes, those green eyes that Louis could never quite recreate in his mind, those eyes that were now looking at him with so much uncertainty, those were Harry’s eyes and that meant Harry was _here._

“What are you doing here? Niall told me you were working on an album.”

“Yeah, the whole team’s here. I had to fight off some writer’s block and well, I always wrote my best songs when we – when I was here.”

And not for the first time, Louis felt unsure of his decision. It had been so easy not to miss Harry when he was out of sight. But standing there in front of this boy who needed to write songs and had immediately come to _their_ place to do it and couldn’t quite look him in the eye as though he had done something wrong, Louis suddenly felt his heart sink.

Breaking up was supposed to have been best for both of them so neither of them were allowed to feel too torn up about it and they were both remarkably stubborn anyway. So, when Louis had been introduced to Harry’s friends and they all knew him as the ‘ex-boyfriend’, Harry wasn’t going to outwardly flinch, and Louis wasn’t going to show how the term made him feel sick.

He didn’t stay long in Jamaica after that. It didn’t feel the same.

* * *

As the year drew to a close, Louis wasn’t feeling better, but he refused to acknowledge the reason with any kind of rationality. Despite Jay constantly leading him to the pool of _you’re miserable without Harry,_ Louis refused to drink.

Instead, he chose to believe that the only things he really missed were companionship and sex, two things he could definitely get from other people. Harry wasn’t irreplaceable.

But Louis had more pressing things on his mind than trying to prove his point. Jay was getting worse. The whole family had begun to properly brace themselves for the goodbye. _As though it was something they could brace for._

Louis had practically moved into the hotel across the street from the hospital and was constantly flitting between the two buildings, trying to comfort his many siblings and being only too aware that it was an impossible task that would soon become a daily one.

The end was so close now and they could all feel it and Jay was trying to make it as easy as possible for him, knowing that he would always feel responsible for the family after she was gone. And Louis was trying to keep his spirits up for everyone else’s sakes but he felt like a little child and he just wanted to give up and cry and scream about how unfair it all was that he had been put through so much and the only person who had been there right from the beginning was about to be snatched away from him. He wanted to be hugged and comforted, even if it was just for a little while, but he couldn’t have that.

And then Harry appeared. And to Louis, he looked like an angel.

He took the shaver that Harry had brought him and then allowed himself to be held and let his grief and exhaustion leak from his eyes while they sat in silence.

“I didn’t think you’d come.” Louis mumbled after a moment.

“I wasn’t sure I should. But Jay called me. She wanted someone to take care of you while you ran around taking care of everyone else and well, she said you needed me.”

“I figured she would take matters into her own hands at some point. But after everything – I just – I didn’t expect you, is all.”

“I wouldn’t let you go through this alone, Lou. It doesn’t matter what happened between us, you’ll always be my best mate.”

Louis thought that maybe the word ‘mate’ had hurt him, but it was difficult to distinguish from all the other pain he was feeling. What he did know for certain was that friend or otherwise, he had never felt so lucky to have Harry there with him.

* * *

Finally, the worst came to pass, and Louis wasn’t nearly as braced for it as he thought. He had cried with his sisters and held the younger twins who couldn’t quite understand what was going on. He had handled all the arrangements for the funeral. He had said goodbye to the greatest constant in his life. And it was so much _more_ than he had been ready for.

And throughout it all, Harry had stayed close. Harry had made sure that he ate and slept and kept moving. Harry had held him and let him cling to his arms like a safety blanket. Harry reminded him of his promises to Jay when he was certain he couldn’t perform on the X Factor, and Harry had made sure that all the other boys were there to support him when he actually got on stage and had to blow kisses to the sky instead of to the crowd like he had once hoped. Harry tucked him and Lottie into bed when they got too drunk later that night and made sure that tea was waiting the next morning.

He did all of that without expecting anything in return and when Louis returned to some semblance of normality, Harry left.

“I’m still your mate, Lou. You can call me if you need anything.”

And Louis _missed_ him. For the first time since they had broken up, Louis allowed himself to admit that he missed him, and he thought of Jay.

_“I’m not going to be alone. I can get another boyfriend if the need arises, mum.”_

_“Darling, you’re handsome, talented and very charming, of course you can find another boy. I’m trying to tell you that the only one you need is sitting outside this room, waiting for you to get over yourself.”_

_“He’s not trying to win me back or anything. He’s just here to help. Harry is an incredible person, mum. He would do this for anyone. It doesn’t mean anything more than that.”_

_“He_ would _do this for anyone, that’s true. But the important thing to remember is that you wouldn’t have let anyone else take care of you the way he’s doing. No one else would be able to comfort you and keep you going, and you know it. He loves you, Boo. And even though you’re being stubborn right now, I know, just like I’ve always known, that there’s no keeping you apart.”_

_“Mum, come on-”_

_“I know what I’m talking about, darling. And I just don’t want you wasting time looking for something because you’re pretending that you don’t see it in front of you. I’m not going to be there to smack the sense into you anymore and I just want you to be happy. Boo, I trust you with your job, with your dreams, with our family. Trust_ me _on this. Harry’s waiting for you. And he may very well wait forever if you make him, but are you really going to take that risk?”_

Louis felt sick to his stomach.

Even at the time, he had known that Jay was right but had refused to acknowledge it. But now, he was too tired to keep pretending. The fight had been drained out of him and he just wanted to run to Harry and tell him that he needed him and that he was an idiot for ever thinking otherwise. He just wanted to pick up the phone and cry into the receiver and tell Harry that he had made a mistake.

But he couldn’t do that. He no longer had that right. He had forfeited it when he had broken up with Harry and again when he had hooked up with him and not stopped him from leaving, and again when he had run from Jamaica instead of talking to him, and _again_ when he had finally signed the contract that put him in public with Eleanor once more even after promising Harry that there would be no more stunts.

No, Louis was out of chances, he was sure. Harry didn’t deserve to be sent away and then called back to him like some loyal pup. So, even though every fibre of his body yearned for his boy, he didn’t make the call.

He knew that he had been so foolish to think for even a moment that he could thrive without Harry, but now Louis was only looking for survival.

Any part of his life that Harry had left empty, he was determined to fill again. His house in London didn’t feel quite right anymore, so he travelled as much as possible. He felt cold at night, so he drank more tea. His bed felt empty, so he found other men to take up the space and tried not to think about the fact that he was searching for people with curly hair or dimples or green eyes.

_I went to so many places, looking for you in their faces…_

As meticulously as he could, he carved Harry out of his life, until all that remained were his tattoos and his absolutely melancholy collection of songs.

_Should’ve never let you go, my baby._

* * *

Louis was drowning in regret and self-pity. He was also drowning in tequila shots, cigarette smoke, and whichever green-eyed guy was willing to take him home. When he first started out, his mates had cheered, “Tommo’s back!” but after a few weeks, even they were starting to recognise that this was a fairly lethal poison he was taking and then they wished he would stop.

After a particularly bad night that had Louis passed out on his couch, Stan decided that if his friend never went to a pub again, it would be too soon. And so, he did the only thing he could think of that would help his mate: He texted Harry.

_L is poorly mate. you gotta do sumthn. he wont listen to us. he misses you. i dont know what exactly went down but you need to fuckin get off your arse before he blows his liver._

There was no reply.

So, Louis went out again that night. He was already two pints in when his phone rang, and he was just sober enough to recognise the caller and just drunk enough to answer the call.

“Hazzzza! Why’re you calling me for?”

“Lou, are you out again?”

“Whaddya mean _again_? You playing mum, now?”

“Just wanted to make sure you’re ok. I heard –”

“Everything is fucking _great,_ Harry.” _Liar_ “Keep your nose out.” _I miss you_ “I’m fine. It’s just a bit of fun.”

“Louis.”

“Just leave it.” _It doesn’t matter anyway_

* * *

It was just another night at another pub with another stranger pressed up against him. Everything really just blurred into one big Harry-less pit, really.

He had spent so much time telling everyone that he was just enjoying being able to party again but there wasn’t even any point in denying it anymore. He hated this. He hated waking up in strangers’ beds or sleeping on his friends’ couches because he couldn’t bear to be home anymore. He didn’t want to be a bad role model to his sisters. He didn’t want his mum to be disappointed.

He didn’t want to be that guy in five years who’s on a first name basis with every bartender in town while the news tells him that Harry is out getting his tattoos removed.

Louis knew that the person he used to be was more deserving of Harry’s love, but he had no idea how to get back to being that person. The only thing he knew at that moment was that he had been drinking long enough that he had been cut off and that there was a tall man with green eyes looking at him from across the pub and Louis was going to take what he wanted from him.

He swallowed the rest of his drink and with an extra sway in his already unsteady gait, he approached the tall, handsome man. He reached out and gripped his arm and plastered an overly sultry smile on his face. He wasn’t worried. He knew how to do this, perhaps better than he’d care to admit. He was attractive and charming and drunk and very very willing, so it wasn’t often that Louis went home alone when he didn’t want to.

Tonight, would be no exception given how amenable this stranger already seemed to Louis’ touch. So, Louis pulled his gaze towards his green eyes and tried not to slur when he spoke. “Hello, gorgeous. You here by yourself?”

“It would appear so.”

“Mmm. Can’t imagine someone as pretty you ever being alone. But I s’pose that just means it’s my lucky day.”

“Lucky how?” There was a slight edge to stranger’s voice that Louis elected to ignore.

“If no one’s here to dance with you and pay for your drinks then that means _I_ get that honour tonight.” Louis pushed himself closer to the stranger, for some reason wanted to actually _feel_ the rumble of his deep voice when he replied. He was so familiar to him. But then again, they were all a little familiar to him. That was the whole point of this.

There was no reply from the other man, except for the pressure of his hands on Louis’ hips and that was enough, he supposed. “What are you doing after this, lovely?”

“Taking you home.”

“Perfect. That was my plan, too.”

“Alright, baby. I’ve had enough of this shit. Let’s fucking go.”

“Lead the way, darling”

* * *

Louis had become all too accustomed to waking up in strange beds with no memory and no evidence but a headache and guilt. And he would hastily make his exit, trying his best not to wake up the man who didn’t look nearly as familiar when Louis was sober.

This morning, however, the bed was empty on one side so Louis allowed himself the luxury of dozing off again. He flipped over and buried his head in the pillows before jolting up again at the familiar smell. He looked around the room with surprise. He was in his _own_ bed.

The guilt was considerably worse, then. Louis had vowed to never bring another man to his house as long as traces of Harry lingered there, and probably for a little longer after that just to be sure. Louis still couldn’t walk through his door without longing for Harry to be behind it waiting with a kiss. He couldn’t sit on his sofa without mourning the loss of Harry’s head resting in his lap. He couldn’t light a cigarette on his balcony without wishing that Harry was there ready to inhale the smoke from his mouth.

The whole house was built on _louisandharry_ and the walls seemed to call out for the other boy as much as Louis’ own heart did.

Except now, the house seemed to be screaming at Louis. The sheets he lay on seemed to be protesting the stranger whose presence they had been forced to endure as though the bed itself knew that it was meant for someone else. Louis had brought someone else into Harry’s space and he felt like a traitor. The walls of his bedroom seemed to agree as they began to close in around him.

For the first time since he began his downward spiral, Louis felt unfaithful. Sex was one thing, but he couldn’t believe that he had allowed another man to lay where Harry used to. His mouth felt dry and his breathing began to stutter. The sweat on his forehead turned cold and the rest of him started to feel uncomfortably warm. His fingers felt numb and his heart was pumping so hard he could hear his blood rushing. He hadn’t had a proper panic attack in a while. Not since his mum had passed. And even then, Harry had been there to nurse him through it and Louis could barely remember how to deal with it himself.

He fisted his hands in the sheets and gasped for breath, looking around with desperation for something, _anything_ , that would anchor him.

His vision narrowed in on a teacup on his bedside table. A full teacup. A full teacup full of tea that looked like it was the perfect colour.

And suddenly, Louis both forgot and remembered how to breathe.

Flooded with disbelief, he reached his shaking hands towards the cup. It was still a little warm.

He took a sip and it was brewed to perfection and he could scarcely let himself hope that this teacup meant what he wanted it to mean.

_harryharryharry_

Louis willed himself to remember the previous night but had no memory past getting into a car with the green-eyed stranger. But, perhaps not a stranger?

_harryharryharry_

There was just no way. It absolutely wasn’t possible.

And yet, Louis was holding a teacup full of perfectly brewed tea and that wasn’t possible either. Except that he could taste it and feel the familiarity of it soothe his still panicking body.

It didn’t make sense to him that Harry would be here. _Why_ would he come back after everything Louis had done to push him away?

It was Jay who answered him, pulling him back to a soft memory.

_The only one you need is sitting outside this room, waiting for you to get over yourself… Trust me on this. Harry’s waiting for you. And he may very well wait forever if you make him._

Louis pushed himself out of bed, pulled on some clothes and padded towards the door. He hesitated with his hand on the doorknob, unwilling to shatter the hope that was building should he actually be greeted by an empty house.

_Harry’s waiting for you._

Louis opened the door.

He was met with silence as he slowly made his way down the stairs and his heart began to sink with every step he took. Perhaps it had just been wishful thinking. Even if it actually _had_ been Harry who had brought him home last night and then brewed him tea, it didn’t mean that some grand reconciliation was about to take place. Perhaps Harry had left the tea on his table as some form of final goodbye note.

Louis sighed in resignation and walked towards the kitchen. It had been too much to hope that Harry would return. Louis knew he wasn’t lucky enough to get _another_ chance after screwing up so many others.

Except, Harry was sitting in his kitchen.

Harry was sitting at his kitchen table with his own cup of tea and a soft smile on his face.

“I was waiting for you to wake up.”

_Harry had been waiting for him_

And just like that, Louis knew that he was the luckiest man alive. Because he _knew_ that he was actually getting another chance. Because he knew that Harry hadn’t stayed just to make sure that he wasn’t too hungover. Because he knew that Harry waiting at his kitchen table was an _invitation_. It was a promise that if Louis would just agree, Harry would spend every morning in that kitchen.

Louis knew these things because Louis knew Harry. They didn’t need words. They were one set of thought and feelings that belonged only to themselves and to each other. They were so much a part of each other that Louis wondered how he had manged to survive at all without his boy. All he knew was that he was never going to have to do it again.

And with that blissful thought, Louis moved closer toward the angel in front of him.

“Thought you might have run out again.”

Harry smiled and reached for Louis’ hand, thumbing gently over his knuckles. “Got the feeling that this time maybe you didn’t want me to.”

Louis positively beamed and bent down to press a soft kiss to Harry’s lips. “Whatever gave you that impression?”

“Oh, several things. You’ve always been a talkative drunk. Never could quite hold your liquor.”

“Oi, fuck you” Louis voice was filled with offense but the truth was that the teasing warmed him far better than any compliment he had drunkenly received so he nuzzled his face into the familiar curls. “What did I say?”

“Gibberish, for the most part, if I’m honest.” Harry chuckled. “You kept raging against me for not being _Harry_ enough which doesn’t even make sense. But also, if that’s how you usually are, then I have _no_ idea how you ever get laid. I mean, _who_ is putting up with all that?”

“Excuse you, but even completely hammered, I’m a prize. Anyone would be lucky to have me.”

“Well, I hope they enjoyed it while they could, because they’re never getting the chance again.” Harry reached up to kiss him again, slowly, eagerly, as though he was savouring a chocolate that he didn’t think he’d ever taste again. Lord knows that’s how Louis felt.

“Why did you come for me last night?”

“Honestly, I’d been waiting so long for you that I’d almost given up. Had my own little spiral. And then I got calls and texts from Stan, Niall, _everyone_ , and it came into my head that maybe _you_ were kind of waiting for me as well.”

“So, you put on your shiny armour, did you?”

“Well, one of us had to just sack up and do something about it and you were definitely too far gone for that.”

Louis looked away his face pinched with guilt. “I’m sorry. I just didn’t think you’d want me anymore.”

“Ah that’s bullshit, Lou.” Harry eyes sparkled with mischief. “It’s always you. I was wasting my time because it was always you.”

“Wait, what the fuck? Those are my lyrics. How did you – I don’t – what the _fuck_?”

Harry burst into peals of laughter that bounced off the walls. “Did I forget to mention? After I refused to shag you, since you obviously didn’t recognise me, you threw a bit of a tantrum and started singing your tragic love songs to yourself.”

“Oh my _god_. That’s humiliating.”

“I thought it was cute.” Harry continued to laugh, and Louis bathed in the sound. “You should put it on the album.”

Despite Louis’ best attempts to appear annoyed, his body gave him away by melting into Harry’s embrace. His hands gave him away by tangling themselves in Harry’s hair. His lips gave him away by chasing Harry’s own. It was the purest high he had ever felt.

It was ten minutes of practiced tongues and fingers tracing familiar places before Louis began to sober again.

“I was so scared I’d never feel you again.”

In response, Harry only murmured against his neck.

“Hazza, I’m so sorry.”

Harry started to unbutton his shirt, mouthing at the skin as it was being exposed.

“I swear I’ll never treat you so badly again.”

Harry pulled his shirt off entirely and discarded his own before hoisting Louis up onto the kitchen table and slipping a hand under Louis waistband.

“You can yell at me if you want. I deserve it.”

Instead, Harry wrapped his hand around Louis and began to gently stroke him.

The familiarity of the ministrations and the absolute want that was building in Louis’ stomach was making it difficult to form sentences. But he valiantly swallowed his moans and continued.

“Don’t you have anything you need to say? Don’t you want to talk about this?”

Harry paused and raised his head from where he had begun to suck on Louis’ nipple (and really it was a miracle that Louis could still _think_ let alone talk). Harry let his green eyes wander over Louis’ face for a moment before leaning again to suck on his earlobe. “Aren’t we talking about it right now?”

And that was enough for Louis. If Harry was willing to just put it behind them then Louis certainly wasn’t going to argue. He pulled Harry up to his lips and lost himself in the bliss of how familiar it felt to be kissing Harry. He wrapped his legs tightly around his waist and thrilled at how easily they still fit together.

It felt natural. It felt right. It felt like home.

That’s exactly what it was. Harry was home and Louis couldn’t believe it had taken him so long to find his way back.

**Author's Note:**

> I may have been high on exhaustion when i wrote this outline... but i think it worked out alright?  
> Louis fucks himself over -- ‘Miss You’ vibes  
> Harry calls him – Everything is great everything is fucking great  
> Familiar green eyes = flirt mode activated  
> Hey handsome what are you doing here  
> Taking you home  
> That was the plan  
> Wakes up in his room with tea on his bedside table=Harry.  
> Thought you might have run out again  
> Got the feeling you didn’t want me to this time  
> flirt mode activated
> 
> L-Now we can finally have a conversation that I wish we could have had before.  
> H- *body language*


End file.
